


bonny boy

by Anonymous



Category: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell (TV), Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell - Susanna Clarke
Genre: Age Play, Community: jsmn-kinkmeme, Daddy Kink, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, kink negotiation happened offscreen and also years ago probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 20:48:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17190140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Here, have some fluffy ageplay porn. Wherein Childermass helps Norrell go to sleep.posted in response to this prompt on JSMN kink meme:"I would love to see daddy kink, mommy kink, or other kinds of ageplay explored in this fandom.I've been thinking a lot about this in the context of Childermass/Norrell, but I would be delighted to see other pairings too!"





	bonny boy

**Author's Note:**

> (In my imagination, this type of roleplay was originally Norrell's idea that Childermass has since gotten really into.)

Norrell was still awake when Childermass had finished his last piece of business for the day. Candle-light and a soft glow from the dying fire played across his pinched face, their shadows emphasizing dark half-moons beneath his eyes. His gaze seemed to jump this way and that upon the pages of his book, not resting on any place long enough to absorb its meaning. He had long since put down his quill and stopped taking notes; instead, his right hand rested close to his face so he could absentmindedly chew at his fingernails.

Childermass walked quietly over to place a hand gently on the small man’s shoulder.

“It is late, sir.”

“I still have a great deal of work to do. This spell must be perfect, and I must account for any eventuality.”

“The spell is well within your power, sir. You have done it enough times in your life to know that. The statues will speak whether you stay up all night for the next three days or rest yourself.”

“My magic is none of your concern!”

Childermass simply tilted his head and walked quietly out of the library. He stayed gone for a period of time, in which he imagined Norrell might have felt a small flame of victory in his heart. It was not often that he stayed awake past a time Childermass deemed reasonable. When his man-of-business re-entered the room a while later, he looked up from his book with a slight air of alarm about him.

“I’ve drawn a bath for you, sir. It’ll go cold if you wait much longer. Now, go soothe your vexed nerves.” 

“I— I wish to study! It was terribly wasteful of you to draw a bath without my requesting it! Really, Childermass, even if I were to go to bed, I feel as if I would simply lie awake there till the morning when I could return to the library.”

“I see; so you require some assistance, sir? With going to sleep?” Childermass regarded him steadily, eyebrows raised in a gesture of loving condescension, as if to remind him that sleep was clearly the only reasonable option.

A few quick blinks later, a pretty blush rose in Norrell’s cheeks. He did not meet Childermass’ dark eyes with his own as he picked up his book with one arm and extended the other to Childermass. Clutching his book to his chest fiercely like a security blanket, he allowed himself to be led out of the room.

“We shall try your plan Childermass, but I do not suppose it will work.”

Norrell’s room was bright, with a tub resting before the merry fire built high in its hearth. Childermass coaxed the book from Norrell's hands and placed it on a bedside table where no water could touch it.

“Come now, lad. Let’s get those clothes off of you.” 

Childermass had once been Norrell’s valet, and at that time the dressing and undressing of his master had been a silent, perfunctory affair. Now, as Childermass’ practiced hands undressed the small man, he caressed open spots of skin and murmured soft phrases like “ups-a-daisy” and “there you are,” without hardly realizing what he was saying. Knowledge built up from years of this strange intimacy between them allowed him to tug Norrell’s pliant hands and legs to where they ought to be. When he was finally naked, Childermass pressed a warm kiss to his forehead. Childermass stepped back and catalogued Norrell’s body with admiring eyes, noting the gentle curve of his belly and the short brown curls beginning to grow out from his head. He was apparently taking too long at this endeavor though, for Norrell fidgeted with his hands, blushed a deep red, and let out a frustrated huff. “Can I take my bath now, Childermass?”

“Lad, if you want my help with these things, you’re going to have to call me by the proper name. You know that. It is not within my servant-duties to bathe you, nor to cuddle you close and read you to sleep. Now, whose job could that be, m’dear?”

“Fine!" Norrell tried to respond in a tone that communicated his exasperation with Childermass’ distinctions, but his voice came out much quieter than he had been intending and this somewhat ruined the effect. “May I get into my bath now, daddy?”

“There’s my bonny boy. Come ‘ere.”

(Childermass did not, in fact, know what a father’s job generally was, as he had not received any fathering himself when he was a child. He supposed that what he described fell more under a mother’s purview, or it might if the child in question were extraordinarily lucky. And the rest of what he did when playing at being Norrell’s “daddy,” of course had nowt to do with parenting or childhood at all. He was not much bothered by the inaccuracy though, for over the years he’d discovered that playing at being young made Norrell terribly embarrassed, aroused, and more open than usual about his needs, all of which suited Childermass just fine.)

Norrell’s shoulders relaxed a bit after he lowered himself into the warm water. Childermass rolled up his sleeves and knelt beside him. One hand anchored itself at the base of Norrell’s head, thumb rubbing small circles into his neck, while the other scrubbed gently at skin with a wash-cloth. At first, Norrell seemed anxious about where to put his hands and where to look as he was washed. Soon, though, under Childermass’ steady, gentle touch, and utterances like “hush now, little lad, let me take care of you,” Norrell’s eyes fluttered closed and he let his head loll back into his lover’s hand. Childermass stared intently at the vulnerable expressions passing over Norrell’s face as he cleaned his body— rubbing over his arms, his legs, his chest, and his feet. He maneuvered the other man’s hair briefly beneath the water and rubbed his scalp, which Norrell went along with easily, a slight hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth. It filled Childermass with fond feeling every time he could see that he was needed like this. 

Norrell made a small sound, a squeak really, and lazily picked up his head. “You… you have not kissed me yet, daddy.”

Childermass chuckled. He rubbed his washing hand back and forth on Norrell’s chest, encouraging him to relax his head again against his hand before pressing his lips lightly on the tip of his charge’s nose, and then planting a chaste peck at his cheek. 

“There now, I’ve kissed thee. Is that what tha wanted?” The other man let out an indignant little whine. “You’re doing it wrong on purpose!” 

“Is that so, little one?”

He pressed his lips to Norrell’s, as gentle as he could, and felt the other man open to the kiss in the most delicious way. He grew tender and biddable when they played these roles together, and though they had done it many times, Childermass never stopped marvelling at this change in his master. Norrell hummed his contentment as his mouth mirrored the movements of Childermass’. He kept the kisses slow and smooth— there seemed to him to be a soap-bubble of tranquility about them and he did not want to pop it with anything too sudden and let the anxieties of the week re-enter his master’s consciousness. 

He sucked at Norrell’s lower lip and scraped his teeth delicately against it; Norrell squirmed a bit in the bath, as if he did not know what to do with his body, and brought his hands up to Childermass’ shoulders, wetting his servant’s shirt as his fingers tangled in the fabric. Their tongues slid slowly against each other. Childermass brought his hand down under the water to grasp at Norrell’s hip, and his sleeve got wet in the water but he didn’t mind— his cock stirred in his breeches and he drove his tongue deeper. Norrell sucked on his tongue with not a little desperation, breathing in pants and letting loose small sounds from his throat that threatened to undo Childermass.

He could feel Norrell's hips tip up slightly, seeking friction against the water. He brought his hand up about Norrell’s throat and let it sit there as they kissed, heavy with gravity but not squeezing— just a reminder of the power he held in this moment— and thoroughly enjoyed the soft groan he got in return. He broke from the kiss to look at his master like this, flushed and starting to wrinkle in the warm water, his prick standing at attention all pink and pretty. His hands roamed down Norrell’s body, stroking his nipples one moment, scratching firmly and suddenly down his sides the next. He played a bit with drawing circles on the man’s thighs, drawing close to his cock-stand but not touching it.

“Would you like me to wash you there too, pretty lad?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“And is that how you ask me for something you want?”

“Um, yes... please. Daddy.”

Arousal thrummed in Childermass’ body. It felt powerful and patient. Beneath the excitement lurked another feeling. No matter how difficult and cross and unwise and even mean-spirited his master might sometimes be, this feeling kept him steadily at Norrell’s side— this rightness he felt in his body, a physical sensation of locking-into-place.

Childermass wrapped his hand loosely around Norrell’s erection, which elicited a squirm and a squeak. His prick fit nicely in Childermass’ hand as he began to stroke it slowly with a firm grasp. He allowed his desire to burn high in him at the whining sounds coming out of Norrell’s mouth. He felt almost drunk on the authority.

“Good boy.”

These words inspired Norrell’s eyes to dart eagerly open. Sometimes, it seemed he wanted nothing more than to have his goodness affirmed to him over and over again. So Childermass obliged, stroking him languidly.

“Well done. Such a lovely little boy. I truly am very proud of thee.”

It was past time to get Norrell out of the rapidly cooling bath and onto the bed. After doing the lion's share of the work to get him stood up and towelled off, Childermass arranged Norrell face-down on the bed with a pillow beneath his hips. He followed along wherever Childermass put him, flushed all over, limbs heavy and slow-moving. His somewhat dazed eyes regarded Childermass undressing himself with interest, and the tip of one of his thumbs rested in between his lips. It was a beautiful sight.

He climbed atop the bed to cover Norrell’s body with his own. He found himself making a strange, low noise akin to a growl and sucked a mark into the base of Norrell’s neck, letting the other man feel his heavy cock grind against his backside. Norrell pressed his arse back against his thrusts, pleading for attention. He moved to turn around and reach his hands back towards Childermass, but Childermass grabbed hold of Norrell’s arms and pinned them down to the bed above his head, at which Norrell positively whimpered.

“Stay there, now. Let Daddy take care of you.”

Childermass sucked and slid his stubble all the way down Norrell’s back and arrived at his clean, pink arsehole. He spread Norrell’s cheeks apart and licked. He began taking him apart with his tongue, exploring every breathy reaction he could squeeze out of his master. He felt the tight ring of muscle open up to him in response to his small probing movements and he took his own prick in his hand to relieve some of the presssure building there. He kept diligently at it till he was as deep as his tongue could reach, and Norrell was panting and groaning and whining incoherently at him, and his jaw ached, and he had to stop stroking himself lest he finish too soon. Childermass kissed Norrell's thigh all the way up to his inner knee and reached beneath the bed to find their jar of oil.

Childermass pressed his oiled finger past the spit-slicked entrance. He fingered Norrell open in slow, thorough thrusts. His eyes stayed trained on the other man's face— an adjustment period at first, and then a slackening of the facial muscles, and then an arm thrown over the face (the sensations thrilling through his body in conjunction with Childermass' gaze were too much to bear at the same time). He was past ready for a second oil-coated finger to slip in, and then two fingers rubbed against his prostate in a steady rhythm, building, and he breathed in time to the thrusts, each exhale a moan.

“I want it now!"

Norrell’s petulant tone made Childermass chuckle. He flipped him over onto his back so they were facing one another. 

“Patience, lad.”

Childermass pulled Norrell towards him and lifted his legs up so they circled about his hips. He rubbed his cock in the oily cleft of Norrell's arse and licked hungrily into his mouth. It was open, wet, and panting, barely coordinated enough to be a kiss. Norrell wiggled his bum as if trying to chase Childermass’ erection. 

“Daddy... please!”

Childermass took a few moments to relish teasing the other man with his prick. But finally, Childermass pressed the head of his cock slowly into Norrell’s tight, slick heat. Norrell’s breath hitched as he was opened up, and Childermass groaned. When he was fully seated inside his lover, he paused before beginning to thrust slowly in and out. “Unh— Childermass, yes. Daddy—” Short rolls of his hips generated little moments of overwhelming sensation. Childermass fucked him patiently and thoroughly.

Norrell’s knees were up against his own chest. His head was thrown back. A sheen of sweat covered his pink skin. Seeing him like this was an honor no-one else besides Childermass had ever had. The thought, once it came into his mind, threw fuel on the possessive fire growing in Childermass’ body. 

He lost track of trying to go slow. He started chasing his own pleasure more desperately, gripping Norrell's hips harder and driving his prick in faster. He felt like he was burning up, surrounded entirely by the right-feeling. He knew he would not last long. His thrusts grew wilder and he wrapped a hand around his lover’s cock— years of practice guided his hand to the rhythm that would drive his lover over the edge.

Norrell spilled with a cry between them. Childermass fucked him through his peak and came listening to his over-stimulated whimpers. 

He curled up next to Norrell for a minute or two, breathing with the other man and stroking his warm skin. Finally he had collected himself enough to get them both cleaned up and ready for bed.

Childermass’ voice rumbled out low and even as he read aloud from the book Norrell had been puzzling over earlier.

“And it is in this way that the magician may call forth the more verbal aspects of the stones themselves. It should be noted, however, that...”

Norrell was curled up next to Childermass, feet up against his feet, head resting on his chest. Childermass’ eyes flicked over from the page, and he saw that Norrell’s thumb had slipped into his mouth. As he read, he caught glimpses of Norrell’s face relaxing in stages, and his eyes drifting closed, and finally, his breath evening out into the rhythms of sleep.


End file.
